


Five Times Elizabeth Realizes She Cares About John a Lot More Than She's Supposed To

by ShaneVansen



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, UST, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaneVansen/pseuds/ShaneVansen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title is pretty much self-explanatory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Elizabeth Realizes She Cares About John a Lot More Than She's Supposed To

**Author's Note:**

> These aren't supposed to fall in any particular order and aren't meant to be related to each other.
> 
> Originally posted to LJ August 2007.

** _-one-_ **

"Long day?"

Elizabeth lifts her head from her hands to regard the man making himself comfortable on the edge of her desk. "Something like that," she agrees wryly, leaning back in her chair. "Something I can do for you, John?"

"Yes, actually." He tilts his head in the direction of the door. "You can come with me."

"Where?" If she's honest with herself, at this point she doesn't really care. This has been a paperwork day, without so much as a single meeting or crisis to provide a distraction, and she's more than ready to leave her office behind until morning. But it's never a good idea to follow John blindly, if only to curtail his mischievous streak.

John grins and points at her. "It's a surprise." In response to her no doubt dubious look, he dons his most wheedling expression. "Trust me," he entreats.

Rolling her eyes in an exaggerated display of giving in, she stands and joins him on the other side of the desk. "Just promise me I won't regret this."

"Come on," he encourages, evading the issue.

It takes a transporter trip and a fifteen minute walk to an area of the city that, to Elizabeth's knowledge, has only been cursorily inspected, before John stops suddenly in the middle of a corridor that resembles any other hallway in Atlantis. "This is what you wanted me to see?" she asks, glancing around the nondescript space.

"Around the corner." He gestures at a nearby intersection and orders, "Close your eyes."

Elizabeth considers making a token objection, but there is an unusual eagerness in his movements that tells her he's excited about whatever she's about to see. Without further protest she closes her eyes and allows him to guide her forward.

The hint of a familiar, once-common scent and the feel of a faint breeze has her even more curious than before, and she fights the temptation to peek; she doesn't want to ruin John's obvious fun. She follows his lead willingly, until she senses him take a step back. "Alright, open your eyes."

Without hesitation she does so, and is struck speechless by the sight before her.

Instead of an abandoned lab, as she half-expected, Elizabeth is confronted by what can only be described as a park. The room is huge; she can only just make out the walls to either side, and from what she can tell the far side is open to the air. The ceiling is transparent, offering a view of the cloud-scattered sky. The floor is, amazingly enough, covered in grass, with random groupings of bushes and even trees that reach up to brush the twenty-foot-high ceiling. To someone who has been mostly city-bound since their arrival in Pegasus, this is easily one of the most incredible sights she has seen.

"Oh my god," she breathes, trying to take it all in at once. "How...?"

Out of the corner of her eye she catches John's shrug. "Zelenka figures it used to be a hydroponics bay. I've been working on converting it in my spare time, with the help of a few others."

Finally tearing her eyes from the view, she turns to face him. "Why?"

He glances away, the tips of his ears turning red. "You mentioned once that you missed walking in the park with your dog. I couldn't manage the dog, but...." He trails off, still not looking at her.

Impulsively, blinking back the moisture that's trying to gather, she leans up and brushes a kiss across his cheek. "Thank you," she whispers, at a loss for words. That he would go to so much trouble for her, based on a conversation they had months ago, amazes her.

Elizabeth turns back to the park, slipping her hand into John's, holding tight. His grip is just as secure. "Do you have time to take me on a tour?" she asks.

"Sure." His voice is almost normal.

They spend more than an hour exploring. She doesn't let go of his hand the entire time.

**   
_-two-_ **

A dull, throbbing pain is the first thing Elizabeth becomes aware of, but the sensation is so generalized that she can't pinpoint its source; painkillers are to blame – or to thank – for that, she suspects. She wonders fuzzily what happened, but her thoughts refuse to present themselves in any meaningful way so for the time being, she abandons her attempts to remember.

The second thing to register is voices. Elizabeth focuses her marginal attention in that direction and is more successful than her last attempt when she is able to identify the voices as belonging to Carson and John. With considerable effort she manages to open her eyes a sliver, wincing at the brightness of the light. It takes several tries, but eventually she manages to croak, "Carson?"

Two figures appear, one on either side of her bed. "Dr. Weir," Carson says, checking monitors. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," she admits. "And tired." Elizabeth tries to adjust her position and hisses as the dull ache flares into a white-hot pain in her left side.

"Don't try to move," the doctor orders, lifting the edge of her hospital shirt enough to check a bandage she has just realized is there. "You'll tear your stitches."

Elizabeth licks her dry lips. "What happened?"

It's John who answers, from the chair he's sitting in to her right. "You don't remember?"

Turning her head in his direction, she frowns vaguely as she gets her first proper look at him. "There's blood on your face," she notes, raising her hand to touch his cheek, but he intercepts her fingers and places her hand back on the bed. From the corner of her eye, she takes absent notice of Carson's departure.

"It's not mine," John answers, and she blinks tiredly at him. Then he repeats, "You don't remember?"

She stares at him, at the smear of blood streaked across his face, and it comes back to her. Shouts, running for the 'gate, the sharp, sudden, and searing pain in her side, John carrying her, Elizabeth reaching up to touch his cheek, trying to tell him–

She closes her eyes, consciously relaxing muscles tense with the memories. "I remember," she murmurs. They're both quiet for a while, and then Elizabeth feels tentative fingers brushing hair off her forehead.

"Beckett says you'll be fine," he tells her, and for a moment she wonders which of them he's trying to reassure. She tries to open her eyes again but the lids are too heavy, the blurriness of sleep encroaching on her thoughts. Aware only of the ache in her side and the careful touch of fingertips against her temple, Elizabeth falls asleep.

**   
_–three–_ **

The tickle of beard stubble on her inner thigh has Elizabeth squirming, but John's hands don't allow her to get far. She can feel him smiling against her skin as she moans – in arousal or encouragement or frustration, or maybe all three – and she raises her head to glare weakly at him. There's a familiar glint in his eyes as his lips inch higher, but beside it is a strange and unexpected vulnerability.

_I love you._

The words are clear and unwavering in her mind, but John has reached his goal and she is too far gone to give them voice. After, bodies tangled together and sated, she's too afraid to say the words aloud.

They're no less true for her fear.

**   
_–four– _ **

Elizabeth is halfway across her office before she looks up, only to see a small, haphazard bouquet of flowers in a glass of water sitting in the middle of her desk. A smile already threatening, she sets down her tablet and walks around her desk to examine them more closely. Though there is only an unsigned note that says "Happy birthday" in unassuming block letters, she knows exactly from whom they came.

She indulges for a moment, lowering her head to inhale the exotic scent of the alien blooms. But the city doesn't stop for her birthday and so, with a wistful sigh, she places the flowers in their temporary vase off to the side before gathering her notes and heading for the conference room.

**  
_–five–_ **

Behind her, Elizabeth can hear the cheers and whistles as the city personnel celebrate surviving yet another close call, but it's only so much background noise as she strains to hear a voice from a radio filled with static. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis. Come in." There's no answer, and Elizabeth whispers a quick _please_ before trying again. "John, are you there?"

Several more seconds pass in silence and the sounds of celebration begin to die down as others realize what's happening. She's about to attempt calling a third time when she's cut off by the voice she's been waiting to hear. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard. Everyone is accounted for and we're on our way home. ETA is two minutes."

Elizabeth drops into a nearby chair, clenching her hands into fists to keep anyone from noticing how they're shaking. "Understood, Colonel. We'll see you then." Despite herself, her voice softens. "You did good, John."

Even across the radio, she knows he's smiling. "All in a day's work," he responds, brushing aside her compliment as he's prone to do. "See you in a few minutes."

Elizabeth cuts the link and stands, heading for the jumper bay. She plans to be there when her people get home.

_–end– _


End file.
